Monica awoke to the low rumble of trucks and sporadic horns and sirens of traffic on the city streets below. The morning sun peered over the horizon into the city shooting bright beams of orange light off the nearby building windows. She reached over and dialed Rayman’s number. She got his voice mail, “Hey. It’s me. Guess who came to my door last night, the Won sisters, Hegin and Lu. We went to a club called, Everclear. If I go out again, I’ll go there. I did as we talked about – then Won Jie showed up looking for me. You were right; I am being closely watched. But I managed to set you up at one of the places we mentioned. Everything is in its place. I’m not invited, but I’m going to the Won house in Insa Dong for Won Chanyu’s funeral to get a look at some of the other family members. I shouldn’t be too long; the funeral ceremony for Won Chanyu begins this afternoon. I hope I go unnoticed. See you soon.” Monica shut her phone and lay on her back, wide awake with jet lag and fearful excitement. She stared at the ceiling with her hands behind her head, mulling over the ill-fated web she seemed snared in, as if it were a preordained tragic birth rite. Her mind sifted through the last 48 hours of information trying to figure out whether she was a pawn or a more powerful figure. Why were her aunts less interested in family revenge and more interested in knowing her as a person? Maybe that was part of the Won plan. An abstract thought crossed her mind; she wondered what she might wear to her own funeral; she decided she’d wear something loud – a statement avowing life. But this was not her funeral.
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